Fatal Fantasy
by drakonlily
Summary: Vincent and Veld go on a vacation. What tuns into a Wutain Gating Party ends up cursing at ghosts who refuse to have the good manners to be shot and die like normal things. Warning: Vineld, Slash rated R
1. After Life Party

**Fatal Fantasy**

_Chapter One: The Afterlife Party_

"There was a time once, when the gate of hell was always closed, for people were noble and righteous."

"You're kidding me."

"Do you want me to translate or not, Valentine?"

"Yeah, sure keep going."

Veld took a deep breath and continued, his tones sliding after the Wutain Priest's and Mater of Ceremonies of the Gate's Festival. "However, soon Hell became full and-"

"Is Heaven full too?"

"Will you shut up?"

"I'm curious as to why Hell is always the one overflowing and Heaven is not."

"Valentine. Shut. Up."

Vincent stuck a cigarette in his mouth, but before he could light it, Veld's hand shot up like a snake and plucked it from his lips. Vincent was left with a glimpse of Veld's tattoo and no cigarette.

Ignoring his partner's smirk, Veld resumed. "Hell became full and the gates burst open. Leaving Wutai to battle the foes from the underworld and NO they didn't pop up anywhere else and I don't care if it doesn't make sense." Veld cut off Vincent's comment before the black haired man opened his mouth.

"As I was saying. They battled back the forces of hell with the power of the god Leviathan, who took pity upon the people. They began then to practice rituals to keep the gate of hell at bay. These rituals were bloody sacrifices, made so that there were fearsome, vengeful souls to battle those from hell."

"Cheerful." Vincent's red eyes traveled around the crowd. More than one head quickly turned away from him, pretending that they hadn't been staring. So far, even though he'd long ago replaced the metal claw and he'd started to look his own age, red eyes were hard to hide.

"The rituals are yearly. But every nineteen years they are consummated with the most powerful ending. A baby girl is chosen, born with a distinguishing feature. Upon her first birthday, and every year thereafter a tattoo is drawn on her, in nineteen parts." Veld looked over at Vincent.

The younger man was staring at the cavern, a little to its side.

Veld's translation pressed on. "Once the tattoo is finished, she's sent out into the world to entice a man who will return with her. This outsider is lead to the gate and there she betrays him. She is seated upon this very chair and watches with unblinking eyes as the outsider is bound, tortured and dies. Once his soul has escaped to haunt the gate, the mask is snapped about her head and she is blinded this is so his soul cannot escape into her body. You see the eyes are the gate… Valentine?"

"…she hung herself." Vincent muttered slowly.

Veld turned and blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"He died because she didn't say anything. She took the bloody rope from his body, felt her way to the tree and hung herself… the ritual failed that yea-" Vincent shook his head. "Sorry Veld, went away for a while. What else are they saying?"

Veld looked at the tree as well. "You alright kiddo?"

"Can we not be here anymore?" Vincent asked. When he asked things, Vincent usually needed them far more than when he demanded.

"No problem. Probably still have jet lag, well have a nap."

"Yes, I'd like that."


	2. You Remind Me of the Babe

**Fatal Fantasy**  
_Chapter Two: You Remind Me of the Babe_

Vincent seemed a little distant as they walked down the street. It was a little off-putting. Mostly because they had planned this as a vacation away from his rather heroic new friends. Not so much new, but one could only stand doing things the nice way for so long before the urge to shove ones gun down the throat of an idiot became too much to bare.

Vincent and Veld were Turks, after all and Turks were not much for the fluffy bunnies of niceness. Their reunion had been easy and without much fanfare. It had been quite a shock for Veld to have found Vincent seated upon his couch after the whole Meteor incident.

_What are you doing here?!_ Veld had pretended that he didn't want to see this particular ghost of his past. He was doing very well pretending that he didn't still have dreams about Vincent's chest snugged against his back in his sleep.

_Is that my sweater?_ Of course it had been. Veld hadn't been able to throw away any of Vincent's things. It was a horribly comfortable sweater. The kind that held a person's sent long after they'd been "dead".

Turks didn't stay dead either. The two had fought like a pair of wolves… or sex starved teenagers.

It ended more like the latter than the former at any rate. And so, Vincent and Veld remained together in a relationship of comfortable violence. Two killers too old to really bother with it anymore.

Cloud and his sword were rather effective crime deterrents at any rate.

Working with AVALANCHE had its perks, one of them being the ability to take vacations whenever they wished. Being a hero also meant that one usually had free drinks. Free drinks gave way to other endeavors, the sort of endeavors that left brick marks against the skin and the smell of sweat just under the pants line.

Veld leaned against Vincent, methodically plucking cigarettes from his mouth as the other attempted to light them.

After his last one was smoked Vincent growled. "So, where are we anyway?"

"Wutai?"

"Ass."

"You asked."

"Fuck you."

"Again?"

Vincent didn't seem to want to argue the point and bit the top of Veld's ear. Veld opened his eyes for a moment and then realized that they were on the steps of a temple. "Valentine, this is… mmmmm…"

"Yes?"

"A … Holy… "

"Mmmm?"

Just before Veld's eyes closed, he noticed two forms at the top of the steps. "Oh shit, stop."

Sitting up, Vincent blinked. "She doesn't look too happy to be there."

A woman screamed, being dragged by two robed men into the temple. She had long black hair and was putting up as good of a fight as possible, yelling out in Wutain.

"Oh goddamnit you want to go help her, don't you?" Vincent asked, funny how he was the "hero" of the two of them and had no ideals on chivalry.

"You're the fucking hero." Veld pulled his pants back up and rolled over, starting up the stairs. "This won't take long anyway."

The two ran up the steps, turning the corner and coming up lost. Vincent and Veld shared a look, clearly confused. Without uttering a word, Vincent nodded his head to one direction, indicating he'd check to the end of the hall. He patted his weapon and held up four fingers. He had three clips and a sidearm.

Holding up five fingers of his own and indicating to his jacket Veld turned to go in the opposite direction. Easier to split up. Veld began looking around a side room; it still had a soft coppery smell. Blood.

"HITOMI!!" Veld heard a man yell from back where he'd left Vincent. Dropping the box he'd picked up, the exTurk turned heel and sprinted back from where he came. Vincent could be seen ahead of him, facing off with one of the men who had dragged the girl into the temple. They were in a gated sort of grotto, the broken door swung loosely on the hinges.

"Hitomi… you shouldn't have such feelings for the sacrifice…" Veld thought it a might strange that this person was calling Vincent by a woman's name. He thought it further strange that he was speaking in such formal Wutain.

Then he recalled that Vincent spoke not one word of the language. "Midgirain." Vincent demanded in a tired tone.

The man continued on in Wutain, however. "The ritual… and the gates of hell-"

"What's that? You slept with your sister?" Vincent never could be professional when flustered.

The man didn't register tone, it seemed. "You need to go back… finish the ritual!!"

"Hey! Here's a thought. WE DO NOT SPEAK THE SAME LANGAUGE!"

"Valentine." Veld's tone was warning. Before he could get to the gate, however, it snapped shut and refused to budge.

"Hitomi… you took his soul with you…" The man lumbered forward, reaching a hand out to Vincent who danced backwards. Ropes dangled from his body and brushed the floor. "Hitomi."

Veld shook the gate that had slammed closed in his face.

"Who the hell are you?" Vincent hissed, gun lifted.

"Hitomi…"

Turk mode flipped on, Vincent took a half step back. "Stand down or I'll open fire."

The man lurched forward.

Vincent fired.

The man didn't seem to register that and he continued forward. Taking half steps back, Vincent continued unloading his weapon. The man continued forward. When Vincent's clip dropped, the man moved with unnatural speed, his hand closed around Vincent's wrist.

"SHIT!" Vincent's curse was lased with pain and he let go of the firearm, falling backwards. He rolled to his side and kicked his leg out in a practiced move. The leg slid directly through the figure.

Red eyes went wide and Vincent didn't bother hiding the shock on his face. A back handspring followed, and Vincent's back collided with a bookshelf. The ghost- Veld took a moment to compile that information- reached its arms up and closed around Vincent's throat and actually lifted him off the ground.

Even though Vincent's strikes were where they should be, it did him no good. The ghost was, after all, not tactile. A few moments went by before calculation was thrown out the window and desperation set in. Vincent's shoulders connected with the bookcase three more times before a case fell from it, banging him on the top of the head.

A camera bounced twice on the floor, going off with a flash.

With an ethereal scream, the ghost vanished and Vincent fell to his hands and knees, gasping on the ground. At that same moment, whatever had been holding the gate closed also vanished and with an aggravated kick, Veld knocked the door from its hinges and ran into the room. "Vincent!"

From the floor, Vincent was working on slowing his breathing. "What… " He took a deep breath and then looked at the camera.

Veld was more focused on the dark burn marks that could be seen over Vincent's wrist and about his neck.

In a smooth, fluid motion Vincent rushed to the camera and scooped it up. "… that was a ghost."

"And that camera made it go away…" Veld finished the thought, picking the bag up and flipping through papers.

"This camera is our new best friend."

"Our friend's name is Camera Obscura."

"Well isn't that colorfully pretentious." Vincent laughed nervously.

Veld stood slowly, brown eyes scanned the room. "Are you alright?"

That earned a swallow. Vincent's hand lifted up to rub the angry black marks on his neck. The imprint of hands could be clearly seen, fingers laced about his white throat. "So what the shit was that fucker saying?"

"That you obviously need to cut your hair, he thought you were a woman."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Ah huh."

"No, seriously."

"Let's get out of here."

The two walked back to the main doorway. Veld pushed on it twice. "…shit."

"Please tell me that you have to use the restroom and the door is not, in fact, stuck."

"While I am going to have to break the seal here shortly, no the door's stuck." Veld looked up at Vincent and reached a hand to the burns. "You going to be alright."

Once again, Vincent refused an answer. "Let's find another way out."


End file.
